Tips on putting it

GWEN KNAPP, EXAMINER COLUMNIST

Published
4:00 am PDT, Thursday, October 21, 1999

TONYA HARDING is back in figure skating, which can only mean that fresh starts are now available to all miscreant athletes. Let's see: Pete Rose as manager of the first baseball franchise that moves to Las Vegas, Ryan Leaf as chief executive officer for the Esalen Institute and Denny McLain as Bill Bradley's running mate.

In the next millennium, with a clean slate, Marge Schott will sit on the board of the Rainbow Coalition, Larry Johnson will become a guest lecturer in world history at Columbia (expounding on his dissertation: "Human Bondage on $25,000 a Day" ), and Darryl Strawberry will inherit Ann Landers' column.

Someday, they may all have their own advice columns or talk shows. So to prepare them for their second chances in life (or ninth or 12th, but, hey, who's counting?), Ms. Demeanor is turning her mail bag over to a group of sports figures who have overcome their own crimes, misdemeanors, hubris and stupidity.

They have so much to offer the next generation - gentle guidance, extensive experience with the phrase, "I've put that all behind me," and Robert Shapiro's cell-phone number.

So, without further ado, let's turn this show over to the guest hosts:

Dear Ms. Demeanor: I paid about $10 for almost $400 worth of merchandise, because a friend of mine worked behind the store counter, and now I may have to go to jail, plus lose most of my senior season of college football. I was supposed to be a Heisman Trophy winner. Please help me get back on track.

- Pete, Tallahassee Dear Pete, from guest advisor Phil Knight: Let me come and act as a character witness for you, kid. We can tell prosecutors that you are a student of Nike economic principles, which state that $40 a month is a generous salary.

If that doesn't get you off the hook, we'll point out that my company hands out free merchandise to youngsters who show up as larger-than-average blobs on a sonogram. As a premier athlete, you have virtually no experience at paying for your own clothes. In fact, as soon as you go pro, you can expect to be paid for getting dressed, for keeping careful track of which baseball cap to wear on the sidelines during each quarter.

As soon as the authorities hear my explanation of the rigorous entitlement training you've undergone since fifth grade, they'll be amazed that you came up with the $10.

Dear Ms. Demeanor: We threw a few batteries at a greedy little punk last summer, and we booed an obnoxious Dallas Cowboy while he was lying immobile on the field, wondering whether his spine was intact. For this, we've been condemned as despicable, tacky brutes. How can we overcome this unfortunate stereotyping?

- Fans, Philadelphia Dear Fans, from co-guest advisors J.D. Drew and Michael Irvin: We'd like to offer you two things. First, our empathy. Nobody understands better than we how the media latch on to a few bad episodes and label a person forever. A shameless contract holdout, a cocaine bust, a few graceless end-zone celebrations - they'll never let you hear the end of it.

Second, we extend our gratitude. We've had a hard time transforming ourselves into sympathetic figures. You've done more to help our images than you can ever imagine, or care to know.

Dear Ms. Demeanor: See above letter from Philadelphia. Substitute trash for batteries, and incompetent umpires for greedy little punk, and you'll have a rough idea of our problem.

- Fans, Boston. Dear Fans, from guest advisor Tim Tschida, second-base umpire in Game 4 of the ALCS: All I can say is: Ditto to Part II of the reply above. If you hadn't distracted attention from my blundering at second base, I might be under investigation for trying to fix the game. Or worse.

Who knows what Sandy Alderson, the umpires' nemesis, would have done to me if you folks hadn't started throwing trash to protest my work? He had to focus on keeping the peace instead, and that meant he had to be diplomatic with the umps. Do you know how hard it is to make Sandy Alderson act like a diplomat? Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Dear Ms. Demeanor: Is it possible to make people forget that you bit off part of an opponent's ear and did time for rape?

- Mike, in Perpetual Purgatory Dear Mike, from special guest advisor Tonya Harding: Anything is possible, big guy. Of course, it helps to be a little blonde that a lot of men want to, uh . . . forgive. Tell people you went into therapy and learned tons about yourself. Speak in a saccharine voice, the kind that Miss Texas always uses when she says her favorite colors are red, white and blue. You've spent time around beauty pageants. You should be able to handle this.

Above all, sweet-talk the media. They'll bash you as much as anyone, but they're easy to con. Just remember that all we need to be considered redeemed, wonderful people are: a good left hook or a working double axel, plus a willingness to grant one-on-one interviews. And if at first you don't succeed, just tell the judges that your shoelaces broke.&lt;